Mr Monk and the Recurring Nightmare
by Eclipsed Radiance
Summary: Monk starts to have a haunting recurring nightmare, and is scared that it could be projecting into the future. Chapter 2. This is my first Monk Fanfic, so please be kind... enjoy! Chapter 3 may be up in the next couple of days. Sorry for the delay!
1. Up Early Again

Mr. Monk and the Recurring Nightmare

A/N: I do not own Monk or any of it's characters, nor do I claim to. This is my first Monk FF. Hope you like it.

1. Up Early Again

"_Natalie… hi. It's Adrian Monk. I know it's 5:03 am… Ho—Hold on a minute… 5:10 in the morning… no wait—let's just round down to 5 am even—I need to get a better clock… _"

"Mr. Monk, what's wrong? Do you need me to come over?" A sleepy Natalie Teeger spoke into the receiver of her phone.

"_I… no, no… I'm fine. I'll tell you in the morning…I mean later. Oh, Natalie… I'm a wreck." _Adrian cried into the phone.

"Mr. Monk? I'll be over in 15 minutes. Stay where you are."

"_No… no! Natalie please. I can just tell you here…" _Adrian sounded desperate.

"Alright, if you say so."

"_Natalie… I don't know how to say this without sounding… horribly, horribly childish. But the past few nights I've been having this recurring nightmare. About Trudy, I think. I can't make her face out, but she's blonde and has a sweet face. Anyway… every night for the past 4 nights I have horrible visions of her being killed in a car accident. A blue sedan with the license plate 89b-24at is speeding down the street recklessly and as she is crossing the street, I see her just barely look up in time to see this car… you know."_

"Oh, Mr. Monk… I'm so sorry. Just wondering… does the woman actually get hit by the car, or is it only implied—you know, one minute she is walking the next minute she is lying in the street?"

"_I see her get hit about half the time. The other half, it is implied. And sometimes… I'm driving the car. Other times, I'm just another pedestrian on the sidewalk. I wake up in a cold sweat in my dream—and I think I'm really awake… but when I settle back down to sleep, the nightmare picks up where it left off. "_

"This sounds rather transparent to me… not to trivialize or anything. You obviously feel guilty about Tru—"

"_it may or may not have been Trudy. Let's keep it ambiguous-- and what do you mean Transparent …"_

"Ok… about this woman. You feel responsible. Sometimes you blame yourself, and sometimes you feel like you were helpless to stop it from happening. And what I meant by "transparent" wasn't that you're predictable or easy to read. These symbols are just classic. I'm sure if you asked Dr. Kroger, he'd say the same thing."

"_Alright." _Adrian sighed. "_Here's the thing though. I almost feel like I've seen it happen before in reality. And it's almost spooky enough to say that a part of me is predicting something like this happening in the near future. Natalie, Please. I don't know what to do."_

"Mr. Monk. I'm really flattered that you'd call me and I really wish there was something I could do to help you, but tomorrow is a school day for Julie—she's going on a camping trip for 4 or 5 days with her school-- , and I would have to wake her in order to come over to your apartment. I already have to get her to school and hour and a half earlier than usual… Listen, Mr. Monk. All I can think of is that you need to get sleep or these dreams will come back full force. I used to get nightmares like that when I was a little girl. In fact, I still get them occasionally. I think they're called something like 'waking nightmares' or 'night terrors'. They are probably caused by a lack of sleep." Natalie stopped, as she could hear quiet sobbing on the other end.

"Mr. Monk? Everything all right?" the sobbing got louder. Natalie sighed and waited for a moment.

"Ok. Here. You get into bed with the cordless phone and I'll stay on the line with you until you fall back asleep. Just remember, Adrian. None of this was your fault. Please stop blaming yourself…"

The sobbing had turned into a quiet whimpering. All Natalie could hear now was quiet panting and sniffling.

"_Ok, Natalie. I'm in bed."_ Adrian whispered.

"Ok. So here's the deal. We're not going to talk about your you-know-what. Instead, I'm going to ask you what you're doing later today." She sighed quietly.

"Oh, well, I have a couple of doctors appointments I have to go to in the morning… and by a couple… I mean five."

"Oh. Well. I hope they go well. Do you want to go out to lunch with me? I found a nice new café close to you, actually." Natalie slid back down into her bed and under the covers.

"_I…I don't know, Natalie," Adrian said, nervously dismissing her offer, "you may have to come with me to my appointments. I can't stand doctor's waiting rooms. "_

"Well, we'll see then. What time do you need me?" Natalie realized quickly how much of a push over she had become for Adrian. But she bit her lip and waited for his reply.

"_Around 9. No…8:30? I… I don't know. I'll call you." _

Adrian didn't even say thank you. It was as if she was expected to throw her plans away for him without question, on a moments notice. To most people, this would have been an unacceptable relationship. But to Natalie, it was the only way to get paid. She had gotten used to it. She wondered if he had treated Sharona the same way.

The two of them continued on the phone for a good 45 minutes. Natalie had become good at falling asleep while still managing to listen to other people. Her eyelids slipped back over her eyes, as Mr. Monk would occasionally speak in a whispered mumbling tone of voice. Natalie's responses became more and more obviously distant.

Deep down, Adrian didn't care if she was falling asleep. He appreciated the extent to which Natalie tolerated him. But his impulses got the best of him.

"_Natalie! Please wake up or I'll never be able to fall back asleep_…" Monk cried into the receiver.

Natalie snorted delicately as she was jolted back into a conscious state.

"…Mr. Monk. You'll be fine. Listen… I have to go to sleep or I'll be totally useless. I hope you can get some sleep too. I'll see you in a few hours, ok?" She hung up without waiting for his reply and turned over in her sheets.

Monk stumbled sleepily into his living room with a pillow and a blanket and slid onto the tanned pleather couch. Trudy would protect him. She would look after him.


	2. Unshakeable Feeling

Mr. Monk and the Recurring Nightmare

By Eclipsed Radiance

_A/N: I do not own Monk or any of it's characters, nor do I claim to. This is my first Monk FF. Hope you like it._

2. Unshakeable Feeling

Monk had only gotten a couple hours of sleep when he heard a light tapping on his door.

"Mr. Monk? It's Natalie. Are you awake?"

He lifted his head wearily and saw that the sun was already shining brightly into his apartment. It had to be around 10 am.

Monk scoffed to himself, mumbling angrily to himself for oversleeping. He threw off his cover and sat up.

"One moment, Natalie." He got up to open the door for her, still in his pajamas.

Sleeplessness seemed to temporarily age his face, as his facial details were accentuated from nights before, spent awake. As Natalie entered his apartment, she eyed him sympathetically. Of all the things that plagued him, irrational guilt should not be one of them, especially if it robs him of his ability to sleep at night.

She wanted to take his hand and tell him that everything would be all right. She wanted to look into his eyes and let him see that everything would be all right. She felt a deep sadness for him and a strange bond to him. But it wouldn't be very professional to let this show.

"Good morning, Mr. Monk!" She said cheerfully as she walked into his spotless apartment. She tried to hand him a grocery bag, but he didn't take it so she walked past him, into his kitchen.

"I just finished my errands, and sent Julie off with her school. I wanted to bring over breakfast, but I didn't know what you'd like. So I bought some fresh fruit."

"Morning…?" Adrian whimpered with frustration. "It's nearly noon… I've missed at least… 2 --of my appointments!" He looked on after her as she put the bag down on his kitchen counter.

"Mr. Monk! First of all, you needed your rest. Second, It's only quarter to 10. Don't you have a clock?" She glanced in his direction awkwardly.

"…I unplugged them all last night because I didn't want to know how late I was keeping myself up. " Adrian admitted. "And every time I looked at them they were displaying some… AWFUL, uneven number. 6:06—6:24… 6:37. 7:02," his eyes grew big to emphasize his disgust. "It—it drove me crazy." Adrian started to walk back toward his room to get showered and dressed.

Natalie had stopped listening. This was "remedial Adrian"—the rookie stuff you learn when you first meet him. The stuff that he felt he had to teach familiar company over and over again so that they would finally learn to accept his obsessive-compulsive tendencies and maybe learn to stop feeling pity for him.

Natalie started pulling some bananas off the bunch.

"I'm making a fruit salad. Is that ok, Mr. Monk?" She called after Adrian while washing her hands at the sink.

"No mixing!" She could hear his reply only barely. He was referring to the fruit, of course.

So instead of mixing the fruit salad in the bowl she had found, she cut him slices of individual fruits and lined them up symmetrically, yet artistically (in a starburst), in color order from lightest to darkest. In addition, all the slices were the same size, and every line had exactly 10 slices.

She had this OCD thing down. She smiled to herself as she placed his plate in his refrigerator so that the fruit wouldn't turn brown. She made a small fruit salad for herself and sat down at the table in the dining room with the newspaper to wait for Monk.

A few minutes later, Adrian came to the table, dressed in his usual suit. His curly black hair was still visibly damp from his shower. Natalie ran into the kitchen and took his plate back out of the refrigerator. She placed it in front of him and awaited any criticism.

"Thank you," Adrian took a moment to suspiciously eye his breakfast, "It's perfect!" he smiled up at her.

"Really?" Natalie was somewhat surprised that she got it right the first time.

"Yes, Yes! Natalie… it's… it's a work of art. Everything is neat and organized… and EVEN... Now the problem is that it's so perfect that I can't eat it." Monk pushed back the plate and put his head in his hands. He knew that that was unnecessary. She had tried so hard, and now he was going to regret what he just said.

Natalie tried to remain cheerful. She put up her finger and ran into the kitchen to get an extra fork. She came back out and held the clean fork up in front of her for Monk to see.

She then plunged the fork into a red strawberry in the middle of the strawberry row and swiped it for herself. Monk sat there with his mouth agape.

"There! Now there's only 9 slices of strawberry. What'cha gonna do Mr. Monk? It's not perfect anymore…" She smirked at him playfully. But she knew that she was probably going to pay for touching his plate of food. He wouldn't appreciate what she had done for him when it came to the big picture.

Before Monk could answer her, there was a loud CRASH outside. Natalie's head spun around and she got up and ran to the window. It sounded like metal crunching and glass shattering. She was right. Someone had hit a parked car. The driver must have been drunk.

Natalie bit her lip as a thought came to her.

"Mr. Monk, stay here. Don't get up." She realized that a car crash might trigger something.

She flew out of his apartment and down the stairs. A small group of people was on their cell phones as they started to gather around the crash. The guy had left the scene. Natalie got to the head of the crowd and told everyone to get back. She took her cell out of her bag and dialed Captain Stottlemeyer.

"Hello. Captain?"

"Natalie? Is this about the hit and run? We're getting hundreds of calls about it. We've already sent a few officers over to the scene. Anything you can see that would help us out?"

Natalie surveyed the scene for a moment. The driver must have been drunk, or knew exactly what they were doing, because they had swerved to the opposite side of the road and hit the side of the car almost fully. Both front and back seat doors were buckled in, and glass was shattered. She knelt down to look for any kind of shrapnel that might have come from the other car. She found a hood ornament, but left it where it was. She quickly got to her feet and covered the phone with her hand.

"Did anyone see what kind of car it was?" She asked the crowd.

The group of people looked to one another and chattered for a second. One of them waved her over. She walked back around the car to the sidewalk.

"Only two of us were here when the accident actually happened," a young woman spoke up, "and neither of us could make out a make, and we didn't have time to see a plate. But the car was definitely black."

Natalie nodded thankfully and got back to the Captain.

"Captain. I found a Chrysler hood ornament under the car… and witnesses say it was black."

"Great, Natalie. Don't worry about this. We'll take care of it from here."

"Ok, thank you." She hung up as two police cars arrived. She waved to them and headed back up to Monk's apartment. The door was ajar, the way she had left it when she ran out. She slid through the narrow opening and went to go find Mr. Monk.

"Uh oh…" She thought to her self as she saw him standing at the window. She bit her lip and slowly walked over to him. Standing next to him, she slowly put her arm around him. He looked over to her with a huge, contorted frown on his face. He was near tears.

"No." Natalie shook her head at him and drew him into a hug. She gently started rubbing his back. He didn't resist. He was shaking. He probably couldn't feel it.

"Yes…" he whispered back indignantly.

She turned to him.

"No. Mr. Monk, you are not psychic. This is a coincidence. No one was hurt-- the car wasn't even blue!" She tried smiling ironically at him, to no effect.

"You have to admit, Natalie—… for a coincidence, it's pretty convenient." He frowned at her.

She sighed back at him.

"That's true. Here. Come away from the window." She tried to lead him away, but he wouldn't budge. So she closed the shades.

He shook his head lightly as the curtains brushed past him, snapping him out of his trance, apparently. They walked to his living room and sat on his couch. Monk immediately put his head in his hands and refused to give her eye contact. She sighed quietly.

"Of course this is traumatic, and you have a right to be upset. But you don't have a right to take responsibility for this—especially because of a nightmare. Let the person who actually caused the accident take the responsibility. Mr. Monk, you have NOTHING to do with this! You cannot take the worlds problems and make them all your own. You have enough going on as it is—" Now he would think that she was implying that he had problems. " Please, just take care of yourself…" She pleaded to him. She knew she wouldn't get through to him though. But oddly enough, she did.

"You're right, Natalie. I'm just being selfish. It was a coincidence." He looked over to see Natalie's flat, unmoved face. "In fact. I'm going to call Dr. Kroger and have him take care of this once and for all."

He was being snide of course. No matter how much truth there was to what she said, he always found himself fighting her.

Monk hated this about himself. He could not shake the feeling he still had about eventually driving her away from pure arrogance on his part. He almost wanted it to drive her away, just so he could prove himself right—that he was a crazy, pathetic, insufferable… incurable human being.

He was the master of his compulsions. She didn't understand that simple words would not sway him. They were not powerful enough to change him, or reverse years of worsening obsessive-compulsive disorder. No matter how much truth they had to them, they would still only be words to him.

He wished he could take solace in her words to him right now. He saw how hard she tried for him. But he had to distance himself (though, deep down he started to feel the same way), if only to make that self-fulfilling prophecy come true.

He put his head in his hands and growled quietly. Some how he could let her in, but he couldn't let himself. It was because she was more normal than he was. He figured that he'd either be more normal by association, or that she'd be more awkward. He didn't realize it was because of the fact that he wanted her to take care of him for the rest of his life, maybe because that was too selfish a thought. He was a very selfish, needy, awkward man and he couldn't see anyone willingly giving him what he needed. That was reserved for Trudy, although as he had said in the past, Natalie reminded him a lot of her—for all the right reasons too…

Natalie got up and turned to face him.

"Fine. You don't have to take me seriously. Believe what you want to believe. I'm going for a walk," She was hurt that he didn't have faith in her advice, "I'll be back in a couple hours."

Part of Adrian wanted to walk out on him too.


End file.
